


Reunion

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Spoilers, The Framework, post 4x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:11:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: After the events of 4x16, Jemma finally meets up with the person the Framework turned Fitz into.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a theory [agl03](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AGL03/pseuds/AGL03/works) and I have been talking about, that Framework Fitz knew Framework Jemma before she was killed. I guess we'll see how the theory pans out!

When she finally, finally sees him, he looks back at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She's expecting the dead eyes and the blood-soaked hands, but he's different than Daisy said he would be.

He may have been The Doctor when she entered the room, but the moment his eyes found hers, something changed.

The room falls silent as they take each other in, and is he doing the same as she is? Is he trying to believe she's real? Is he looking for the kindness in her eyes?

"Simmons," he says, like he expects her to correct him. She does.

"Jemma."

He's in his lab; he's behind so much security that she almost died three times just getting here, and yet he looks so vulnerable. She knows what he's done in this world, but she also knows who he is. Her arms ache to envelop him and tell him that they're going to figure this out.

"Jemma," he repeats, and there are tears forming in his eyes. Is he starting to believe? "You were—we buried you."

She takes a cautious step forward. "I'm alive now. Isn't that what matters?"

He doesn't step back, but she thinks it's because he also wants to come closer. She frees him from his indecision by taking another step forward.

"Are you," he stammers, "are you one of them?"

He's asking, but he's also pleading. _Please don't hurt me_ , his eyes say. _Please don't tell me I've hurt you_.

She shakes her head to soothe him. "I'm not an Inhuman. Something else is happening, Fitz. I need you to remember for me."

There's relief in his face now, but some of the worry remains. He is, in large part, the unwitting architect of this world. There's a part of him that knows how much he has to lose. She takes another step to tell him how much there is to gain.

"You were killed by an Inhuman," he chokes out the words, and she understands. This is where the hate comes from. This is why he burns. "And I, I should have been there. I could have . . ." He twists like a three-year-old who doesn't understand why he can't do what he wants. He's thrashing against the words he can't find, the things he couldn't do. This world isn't so different from their own, after all.

"That doesn't matter now," she says.

His eyes are pinched shut, so she opens them by creeping closer and placing a hand on his chest. This suit is the most expensive thing either of them have ever owned, but its worth does not compare to his. He looks down at her, confused.

"Jemma."

"Fitz."

She kisses him because she can't help it anymore, because she forgives what he's done and how he was mislead, because he needs to know that she'll always be with him. She kisses him because it should have been his hands that calmed her when the androids took over, because he was ripped away from her and the only solution is the fuse them both together.

He breaks the kiss and takes his first step back.

"Jemma. I—"

"It's okay," she soothes. She indulges the hands that long to touch him, closing the space and sliding them through his hair. "This is how we've always been. How we were always meant to be."

His eyes close as her fingers pass over his scalp, and the person he's been would have worried about his perfect hair, but the real Fitz, this Fitz, only wants to be closer. He cups her hip and melts into her.

"Jemma," he says, and it's half warning, half want. He's thinking of _her_ , of the woman who's trapped him here. Does she do this, too? He's so starved for contact.

"I never said—wasn't 'til I lost you that I realized—" His thumb has found the skin under her blouse, and it makes careful strokes up and down. "I'm not the same, Jemma. There's someone else."

His fingers curl against her, and it doesn't matter that there was a time where she could have said these same words to him; it's still enough to send a spike of anger through her heart. Anger, and jealousy, and a need to prove that he belongs to no one but her. She deserves him because she's the only one who can set him free.

"What do you want, Fitz?" She combs through the hair at his temples and gently rubs the stress from them. "What would you do if there was nothing holding you back?"

He leaps forward so fast that it startles her, crashing his lips into hers the same way he did back in their lab, like this is his only shot at momentary joy. He's going to pull away, she knows, so she holds him in place. Her skin has longed for the texture of his stubble, for the soft skin behind his ears. He hesitates before he understands and pushes forward, kissing her with such clumsy passion that she almost loses her balance.

It's not just the force, but the kiss itself that bowls her over. She never would have expected this from a Fitz who last saw her at the Academy. Would it have been like this if the real world had been this cruel? Would they have spent more time loving each other if they'd lost each other at the beginning?

Except, they would have lost each other for good, and she won't allow for a world where she isn't next to him. She holds him tighter.

She doesn't let go when he erupts into sobs, when he buries himself in her shoulder. She supports his weight and strokes the hair at the back of his neck. There was a time when she didn't know how to soothe his pain, but look how much she's learned.

"You were my best friend," he says. "You were everything to me, but I—"

She knows exactly what he means. She, too, has looked down at a lifeless body and been surprised to find that her whole soul only makes up half of herself. They came together so easily that neither of them noticed how deeply their hearts were entwined.

"I feel the same way," she says, with tears of her own. "And I told you, in the real world. I told you I never wanted to be without you."

She waits for him to catch her meaning, for him to pull back and look her in the eyes. She dries his tears with her thumbs.

"What?"

"Doesn't this feel familiar?" She smiles, even as her tears fall. The real world gave them scars, but it always brought him back to her. "We're already together, Fitz. We've _been_ together. We share everything." She presses her forehead against his, hoping she has woken up in an empty bed for the very last time. "You were taken from me, put into this virtual world where I don't even exist."

"I put flowers on your grave," he says.

She smiles, finding his hands and wrapping hers around them. "I never died, Fitz. We lost sight of each other a few times, but not forever."

"I don't—that's not—there's no other world."

"There is," she says, and she remembers what Daisy told her, that Coulson didn't remember her until she told them they were family. "You're the smartest, kindest, bravest person I've ever met. I was too scared, at first, to admit that I love you. I've gotten better with practice."

He looks up at her, and she knows they do not tell him he's kind and brave in this world. To them, he is only a brain to be used, only a body to be controlled. She puts their twined hands on his heart.

It's his heart that will bring him back to her, and there are words that he knows by heart, words that he would have listened to over and over again. She closes her eyes and tries to remember them.

"Do you remember when we first met?"

His brow furrows, and she cuts him off before he can answer. "I do. You were so quiet, and pasty. Smart, and handsome." She looks around to distract herself from the memory. She didn't expect it to come flooding back all at once—the longing and loss. "It's quite a strange feeling isn't it," she asks, "never wanting to be without someone?"

She's trying to forge on, but the rest of the words get stuck in her throat. What else did she say? She only said them because she thought it might be her last chance. She'd said something about dinner. Something about—

She hears him clear his throat.

"Perthshire."

He says it like the word came out of thin air. Like he's not quite sure what it means.

"I still think about it sometimes," she says. "More and more, in fact. I talked you into getting an apartment, but that's not all I want, Fitz." She squeezes his hands, knowing more would be too much.

She should have told him before, she knows. She should have told him when he was talking about singularities, when he told her they were at the point of no return. She told him it was terrifying, but she didn't say that if they were to become infinite, they should do it with matching rings.

After all this time, they were supposed to be past this. Yet, here they are, still only willing to speak the truth when everything else has been taken away. Is this why the universe keeps ripping them apart? Does it know that it's the only way they'll find the courage to be together?

She'll say the rest when she finds him, when her physical body is standing in front of his. For now, she'll make do with the piece of him she has.

He looks at her with new eyes, releasing his hand from her grip to push a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You went away," he says, and she doesn't know which time he means, but he deserves to dwell on better things.

"I came back."

He nods, looking down at their hands, like the pieces are starting to fall together. "I came back to you, too."

She gulps, overwhelmed by the enormity of this moment. "Then do it again," she says.

He responds by kissing her, this time like the Fitz she loves, this time with a smile on his lips. He draws her closer, and it doesn't matter that he hasn't done it in this life; he still knows how.

She catches his smile as she kisses him back, feeling her worry melt away with his touch. They'll make up for the time that they lost, and then they'll find their way home. They'll go back even stronger than they were.

Maybe if she's brave, she won't have to lose him again. Maybe all she needs to do to prevent him from being away is to recognize the love that she has. 

She's never been grateful for the pain, but she is now, reveling in the taste and the feel of him. They're smarter now, stronger, and it's the pain that brought them there.

"I meant it," she sighs into his ear. "I never want to be without you." His arms encircle her as his beard brushes against her cheek.

"Good," he says.

She wants to roll her eyes, because only Fitz would give her one word in return for her speech. She smiles instead, at the warmth that comes with it.

"I don't know how to go home," she dares to say, wishing she could see his face and closing her eyes all the same.

"Then we'll figure it out," he says.

She pulls him tighter then, smiling into his shirt. She worried that she'd have to do this on her own, that she'd have to forcibly drag him back to the land of the living, but here he is in his rightful place: wrapped up in her.

She knows, better than most, that they can do anything when they have each other.

"Well, then," she says, sliding out of his embrace and taking his hand. "Why don't we get on with it?"

There's an answer in his smile, the kind that soothes the weariness this reality has brought her.

"Well, Jemma," he says, "I thought you'd never ask."

**Author's Note:**

> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


End file.
